


The Benefits of Having Experience with The Antichrist

by Ollieollieupandfree



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Castiel is dead, Castiel is. . ., Crowley and Aziraphale are in love, Crowley and Crowley are different people, Gen, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Sam and Dean are confused, and they raise Jack together and its adorable dont worry abt it, but hes mentioned, its complicated, just bare with me, look man i dont remember a lot abt season 12 so you just have to bare with me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 06:57:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17279249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ollieollieupandfree/pseuds/Ollieollieupandfree
Summary: When the Winchesters find the baby antichrist, they're not quite sure how to react. Luckily, Crowley happens to know people with some experience. And they just so happen to owe him a favor.





	The Benefits of Having Experience with The Antichrist

**Author's Note:**

> Crowley (Supernatural) chose his name because Good Omens Crowley took care of him in the Pit. Don't question it too much. I'll write a thing for clarity later if you want.

Sam stared down at the baby antichrist in his arms. Kelly was dead. Cas was dead. Lucifer was who knows where and mom was. . . Sam refused to think about what his mom was. He cradled the antichrist - Jack, Kelly had insisted - closer. He wanted to drop the little guy and run. Its birth had ended in the loss of his friend and his mother and so many, many people. He looked at Dean, then remembered what Crowley and Cas had said. They couldn't kill him. Jack was just a baby.

 

"What are we supposed to do?" Dean asked, looking at Sam angrily. "We can't take care of that thing!"

 

"Those numbers that Crowley gave you," Sam said softly. "The ones he said to call when we needed help. Do you have them?"

 

"Huh? Yeah, they're in my phone." Dean opened his phone. "Uhm. Aziraphale, right?"

 

* * *

 

 

Aziraphale looked over as his phone rang. "Excuse me, dearest," he said, pressing a kiss to Crowley's temple and picking up the phone. "Hello?"

 

"Hi," the American voice on the other side of the phone said. "I'm looking for Aziraphale?"

 

"This is he," Aziraphale responded, shrugging at Crowley as the serpent watched him with careful eyes.

 

"Hi. I'm a friend of Crowley's. Uhm. He said to call you if he. . . if something happened to him."

 

"Oh, dear. I'm sorry to hear that, Crowley was. . . unique."

 

"Scottish Crowley?" Crowley asked, cocking his head at his angel.

 

"Yes, my dear. Your protege," Aziraphale said to his demon. "Sorry, I don't think I caught your name."

 

"Dean Winchester."

 

"Ah! Dean! What can I do for you?"

 

"Well, uh. Crowley said that you and the other Crowley had experience with the antichrist. We, uh. We need help."

 

"All right. We'll be there."

 

* * *

 

 

Dean hated how helpless he sounded over the phone. Hated how he couldn't even properly be confused about the fact that he was asking an angel and a demon for help. He didn't want to hand Jack over to these two perfect strangers. Then again, he didn't want to hand Jack over to anyone. He wanted the little nephilim dead. Unfortunately, Sam was right in that it was impossible for them to kill him. Angel blades didn't work on him, but neither did bullets and the like. What he liked less than the antichrist, were the two men now standing in the middle of his living room.

 

One was tall and middle aged with dark skin and long, blond dreadlocks tucked behind his ears. He was a bit pudgy with beautiful brown eyes and a tartan sweater. His hands - immaculately manicured - were gripping tightly to another man. The other man was younger and Middle Eastern looking. With dark olive skin and dark hair, and angular features. Actually, he looked a bit like a very young Jeff Goldblum, if Dean wasn't lying to himself. He wore sunglasses, a suit, and snake-skin boots that may not actually be boots. Quite the difference to the frumpily dressed taller man in the tartan sweater.

 

"He really doesn't know how to dress, does?" Dean asked, nodding to the older looking man. That wasn't what he had intended to come out of his mouth, but it was what did and therefore he ran with it.

 

"Not really. This is the most fashionable he's been since the fifties," the shorter man said. His voice, much like his appearance, seemed to be angular and smooth at the same time. "I take it you're the Dean Winchester that called us about the antichrist?"

 

"Yes," Dean said. "Uhm. You're Aziraphale and Crowley?"

 

"Yes," the taller one said, and Dean instantly knew he was Aziraphale. "Don't worry, Dean, we're no threat to you or your brother. We came because you called."

 

"Sammy," Dean called. "Bring it in here. They're here."

 

* * *

 

 

Crowley had never been particularly fond of babies. Well, no. He'd never been fond of supernatural babies. He didn't like ones that teleported or made magic or were, basically, the blond haired toddler that Sam Winchester had just lead out of another room. But this child was. . . different. He was like Adam. Crowley could tell. He had that same innocent intelligence, and the way of drawing you in. He seemed almost fearful of Aziraphale. Maybe he could sense the angelic grace coming from Aziraphale was foreign, but as soon as he saw Crowley, he ran to him.

 

"My aura is the most similar to his," he explained, kneeling and looking at Jack. "Hello, Jack. My name is Crowley, this is my husband Aziraphale." Jack gripped Crowley's sunglasses and pulled them off, giggling wordlessly as he set them on his own nose. Crowley looked at the Winchesters with eyes that were an odd mix of snake and cat.

 

"How old is he?" Aziraphale asked, waving gently to Jack.

 

"About a day," Sam said. "But he looks around eighteen months. What are you guys going to do?"

 

"Why, take care of him, of course. Little Jack here isn't good or evil. He's simply human, in the most honest of ways." Aziraphale smiled. Crowley lifted Jack onto his hip.

 

"Don't worry, boys. Jack here is going to be perfectly safe. We'll raise and protect him."

 

"It'll only take a few weeks, really," Aziraphale said. "Before he's able to function on his own. But we can teach him how to protect himself and everything like that."

 

"Stay here while you do it," Sam said, looking at Jack, unwilling to let him go. "Please?"

 

Crowley and Aziraphale exchanged a look, then looked at Dean. Dean sighed and shrugged. "Whatever."

 

"All right," Crowley said. "Jack, Aziraphale and I are going to be your daddies. These two are your Uncles Sam and Dean. Don't worry, little leaf. We'll protect you."

 

Jack grinned and giggled, clinging to the last demon made of an angel. The Winchesters sighed and settled in for a long couple of weeks.

**Author's Note:**

> Well that wasn't good but I couldn't get the idea out of my head so now you all have to read it.


End file.
